Begin Again
by roguefollower
Summary: Noah lives, because I say so. Rated R because it will get a little more graphic. Read/Review. This is what I have so far.
1. In the Begining

"Does he have a chance?"

"Nah, we've lost him."

The paramedics disappeared into the building, wheeling in the comatose Deputy. The odds were stacked against the man on the stretcher, but one doctor inside wasn't willing to give up. They'd notify his family later on the news, either good or bad. Now it was time to start their work, and revive a life.

Gerard sighed. It had been a matter of days since Newman had been shot, and killed in his mind. The case was closed. The story was over. There was little more to do besides wait for the young Marshal's body to be release for burial. Slowly he reached the van where the rest of his team stood, waiting. Leaning against it, they fell into silence.

"You know you owe me an apology," Cosmo stated, barely glancing over. 

"I know," Gerard paused, "but I don't even like you."

The group relaxed into laughter, and collected themselves for a toast to their friend.

The doctor stood and watched through the doorway his patient, listening to the rhythmic tones of the heart monitor. There had been little hope for the man, a guy that still had some essence of boyish charm about him. Even lying in the bed, unconscious, wounded, he looked alive, and not on the threshold of death. The ambulance ride over, though almost killing him, brought him to the hospital with just enough left in him to revive and place on support. With any more luck, he might just pull through and into the real world again. He was still young, still strong.

Noah Woodrow Newman. His mind raced trying to recall anything to hint him on what was going on. He could hear a beep, steady, quiet but strong. There was other sounds flooding his ears. An inhale, exhale of his own breath, but forced, and windy through him. He wondered what was going on.


	2. -One-

"He was a good guy," toasted Cosmo. A general chorus of agreement rose from the table. The team was gather at their favorite watering hole, melancholy as they were, trying to find some sort of cheer in the situation.

"You know, I'm not sure what we'll do with out him," Biggs added.

"The same as we did before him," Gerard stated. The team glared towards their senior officer. 

"That's bitter," Cooper shook her head, and drank the remainder of her glass, "Anyone sober enough to drive, we should get some sleep."

"Yeah, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to fall over of sleep deprivation," Biggs stood, "I'm going to head out then. Cooper, Cosmo, riding with me?"

They nodded and stood, leaving their boss to think, or drink the night away. Grunts of goodbye and they were gone out the door. Gerard stared blankly across the room. Not even a week, maybe 2 weeks, they had been in this exact room, and he was a table away, if that, from where they had stood, congratulating themselves on a job well done for the take down. Newman had been there, and had been the but of a few childish jokes. It came with the territory of being the youngest. A thin smile crept across Sam's face.

"You just going to sit there and bitterly drink your sorrow away?"

Sam turned. Behind him stood Catherine Walsh, hip cocked to one side, a rather sad look on her face. He shook his head and turned back to the table.

"You know I don't like to have people sneak up on me," he took a swig from his glass, "And what I do with my sorrow is my own business." 

"There was once a time when what I said mattered to you," she sat down in the chair beside him. He barely lifted his gaze.

"It doesn't seem to now."

"Sam, I'm sorry about Newman," she paused.

"You've said that already."

"Have you even heard from the hospital about when the body will be released for burial, and a funeral?"

"That body was my deputy, he was alive at one point," Sam remarked bitterly.

"So were you."

There was silence between them. The bustle of the rest of the bar continued around them for a long time before either made a move.

"Get some sleep, and go on vacation. I don't want to see you in the office on Monday morning." She stood, lightly touching his shoulder, then walked out the door. Sam stayed, sitting, waiting, for something to happen. He wasn't sure what.


End file.
